


Handle with Love

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's Ironstrange Shorts 2019 [20]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: A smidge of body worship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff Bingo 2019, Grinding, Insecure Stephen, IronStrange Bingo 2019, Kissing, M/M, Protective Tony, Reassuring Tony, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing Clothes, Soft Feels, Supreme husbands, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family, body image issues, chubby Stephen, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 19:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Two instances of Tony being comfortable and one time Stephen stopped feeling insecure.Ironstrange Bingo 2019 Fill, G1: “Huddling for warmth”Fluff bingo square “Sharing clothes”





	Handle with Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moonykins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonykins/gifts).



> New fill for the Ironstrange Bingo and the Fluff Bingo! Hope you'll like it :)
> 
> Thank you to SerenaLunera for betaing this fic as well as most of what comes out of my crazy brain ^^ and to [Moonykins and her fic Concealing the Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonykins/pseuds/Moonykins) for inspiring me to write this fic! A must read I'm telling you guys!

 

_ 1- The first time he noticed it. _

 

It's a slow realization for Stephen. It's been a long while since he's last given importance to things like possessions, Peter does wear Tony's clothes all the time after all. His mental constructions have shifted over the years until the reflexive “Hey but this is mine” became more of a glance and “oh well, my kid, my stuff is his too”. Having children will do that to you.

Except this seems different somehow, because it's Tony wearing  _ his _ clothes and Stephen doesn't know what to make of it just now. 

First it's a fleeting thought, there's something different about the other man as he comes back to the penthouse from his day at the SI warehouse. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment and comes back changed and Stephen can't quite pinpoint what disturbs his eye. It takes him a few hours from that moment to when the three of them are sprawled out on the couch enjoying reruns of Friends like always. He smiles watching Peter's face when he laughs at jokes that a thirteen-year-old should not understand and goes on to stare at Tony's face.

He looks tired sure, but the episodes are so drilled in each of their brains that the man’s eyes shine with the glint of someone who knows exactly what's going to happen and yet still enjoys it immensely. Seeing his husband like this is always refreshing, he deserves the world and then some and unwinding like this is one step towards that goal. 

Tony burrows his shoulders further into the plush cushions of the couch but something seems to bother him because he straightens up for a second, just enough to gather the hood of the sweater he is wearing and bunch it up at his neck to make some kind of pillow. That's when Stephen's brain clicks, when the missing piece of his Tony puzzle of the day comes into place. 

Tony is wearing one of Stephen's old hoodies. The thing is ratty at the sleeves, there are holes around the collar and at the bottom hem, and Tony's body is so small compared to his own that it's like he's wearing a blanket for a sweatshirt.    
  
Stephen stares at him a bit and he knows the precise moment Tony notices - when the crinkles of his eyes smooth a little and the smile on his face turns from bright with laughter to soft with love, his own special smile.    
  
Tony raises an eyebrow at him over Peter's head, a silent question Stephen has no answer to so he shrugs and Tony is clearly not satisfied with his reply but he lets it go. Stephen keeps watching him, giggling and miming lines and plain being hugged by the warm fabric of Stephen's clothing.    
  
It's not designed to make him self-conscious in the least and yet Stephen can't help the self-deprecating blush that heats his cheeks and he looks away.    
  
Tony looks good in that he muses, but it also reminds him of just how different their respective bodies are and if he's fine with being taller than his husband, actually enjoys it, his weight is a whole different matter.    
  
Tony knows, of course he does, but he respects Stephen’s clear signals that he does not wish to talk about it. He thinks about it enough as it is. Avoids enough mirrors as it is without having to put actual, sound words on what he looks like.    
  
He doesn't know how Tony does it, keeps being attracted to him at all. He hardly looks like what he got married to fifteen years ago.    
  
Stephen keeps his eyes trained on the TV so Tony won't see what's going on behind them - something he's way too good at and he looks far too comfortable to disturb.    
  
Eventually his mind quiets down, lulled by the sweet snark of Chandler and equally calmed by Peter and Tony's consistent giggling. He crosses his arms over his chest and does not think about the love handles that pillow his elbows. He tries not to at least.

 

 

_ 2- The time his breath was taken away from him. _

 

It's a quiet morning of languid kisses and gentle touches. The week's been exhausting to all three members of the Strange clan and Tony and Stephen slept in, only waking up around eleven. 

Seeing Tony's eyelids flutter open as he slowly lets go of the warmth of sleep is always a wonderment for Stephen and he's indulged in it once more. He didn't wait for Tony to get a full grasp on consciousness before leaving the bed, never did anymore. 

He got up and and got dressed right away, then snuck into the living-room quietly. 

He's sitting at the kitchen table munching on some toast when Tony enters the room as well, Peter won't be seen for another two hours for sure. 

Stephen hears Tony before he turns and sees him and it's a while before he gets enough air back in his lungs to speak any coherent words. 

Even as he's only recently realized Tony stole his clothes on the regular his oblivious brains still can't ignore the sight of him now, clad in nothing but his dark gray boxers and the white shirt Stephen wore the day before. 

The cuffs hang down to Tony's knuckles even when he waves and his traits smooth with chuckles - there's enough fabric for it to be the size of a dress on Tony's frailer frame. The bottom of the shirt practically reaches his knees for God's sake. 

Stephen's body and mind agree for once, the man is sexy as hell like this, sleep-laden face and sluggish steps bringing him closer and closer and all Stephen wants is to get a hold of him and bring him back to bed. That is, until Tony extends his arms for a hug a little too soon and Stephen gets all the time in the world to see just how much cloth hangs at Tony's sides, unfilled. Then their arms cling to each other and the moment is over but Stephen saw it nonetheless and he bites his lip so he'll get out of that particular place and enjoy the warmth of one Tony Strange snuggling to his chest. 

“Shut that mind of yours for a sec, will you?” Tony nuzzles Stephen's neck and Stephen hums, neither confirming nor denying, he knows he’d not be fooling anyone anyway. 

Tony spends some more time just bundled up in Stephen's arms and shirt before he kisses him softly and goes on with his breakfast, looking stunning all along. 

Stephen wishes the sight of him wouldn't elicit anything but love and arousal inside him but he knows it's a long shot these days. He frowns at his toast, deep in thought but still very much aware of Tony's careful gaze on him. 

He pretexts a sorcerer emergency to get out of the apartment and get some fresh air. Tony kisses him again, much more intently than before, much longer than is warranted. It makes him feel warm all over and Stephen brings their foreheads together just an instant before he does leave. 

“I'm okay,” he whispers and isn't surprised when Tony calls him out.

“Bullshit,” he replies and his tone is so matter-of-fact and overly pouty that it draws a smile from Stephen. 

He kisses Tony's cheek, hands at his husband's hips for a fleeting second before he promises, “I will be.”

  
  


_ 3- The time they were cold. _

 

Stephen smiles an exasperated tilt of his lips upward when Tony once again groans his despair. 

“Never over-dramatic are you?” 

Tony’s head whips around to face him wide-eyed and looking utterly ridiculous sitting inside the tent with his hair peaking at odd angles and dark circles already forming under his eyes, “You're kidding me right?”

Stephen just plants his feet on the muddy ground, careful to stay under the tent awning as he straightens up fully - Tony huffs. 

“I can't believe you talked me into this. It will be fun you said. The fresh air will do us good, bla bla bla.” Tony frowns a frown that takes up all his face and makes his eyes look black in the low light, “Why are you laughing? Something funny here?”  

“Yes,” Stephen nods, “My city boy husband can't handle two days of camping is what's funny.”

Rather than answer him Tony turns around and lies down in his makeshift bed, his mumbling lost to the clatter of the rain on the ground and plastic of the tent. Stephen smiles the whole time.

He kneels in the door of their temporary shelter, a hand going to rest on Tony's thigh, “C'mon love, it’s not that--”

He never gets to finish this sentence, wouldn't be any point in trying to reassure Tony when literal thunder is going down on them.

The noise it makes is deafening in the empty valley they've chosen to set camp. It echoes again and again and Stephen toes his shoes off by the door so he can join Tony and zip the door closed behind him. 

He puts a hand on the man’s shoulder, soft but insistent as he tries to make him turn around. 

“Anthony, look at me,” it's not really a command and neither is it a plea, he knows his husband too well to try either. He goes for neutral and waits.

It pays off and Tony turns around, granted he still looks as grumpy as Peter does in the mornings but it’s something. At least he's got whiskey brown eyes to lose himself into rather than the infinity of grayish fabric around them. 

He lets his hand travel back to Tony's shoulder, squeezing a bit and is about to say something, anything to get his husband to relax. Only, Tony shivers quite violently and that's the sole thought that sticks in Stephen's mind. 

“You cold?” He frowns into Tony's eyes, searching his face with immediate worry, the man’s body still suffering from his memory of Siberian cold at the first woosh of icy wind or drop of chilly rain. 

Tony nods softly, the immediate need to deny it rendered quiet by his teeth chattering away.

Stephen moves to open their sleeping bag and ushers them both under it, Tony's skin remains cool under his hands and the grip he has on his elbows is much too tight to indicate any real change in temperature. He tries cuddling him up to his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Tony sighs against him and burrows further, until his face is tucked into Stephen's neck and his shaky hands slither beneath his shirt.

They spend a while like this but Stephen's mind can't seem to be put at ease because Tony is still trembling faintly against him and that won't do.

He straightens up a little, kissing Tony's cheek as he goes before searching the rest of the tent for another blanket to add to their nest.

“Your coat, get your coat,” Tony says and Stephen's heart thuds in his chest, sure it will do, and it's large enough for the both of them to fit underneath indeed.

Stephen spots it in a corner and doesn't waste time laying the woollen thing over the both of them, only flushing as an afterthought. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tony mutters but Stephen is too busy looking away to reply, “You went there didn't you?” Tony straightens up, uncaring of his arm and shoulder slipping out of the warmth as he sets his hand on Stephen's jaw and forces him to meet his gaze, “That's enough, I've let you brood like this long enough.”

Stephen's brain seems to pause for a second there, taken by surprise and when he comes to he is on his back and Tony is straddling his thighs. 

“You're perfect. Beautiful. Stupid. Stunning. An idiot all around,” Tony counts off his fingers and when Stephen wants to protest, Tony puts his free hand over his mouth. He squirms so the man will let go but it only makes Tony lock his knees harder around his hips, “Stop it, I'm not done,” Tony narrows his eyes at him, all serious as he puts both his hands, fingers splayed apart, palms first over Stephen's belly.

The deep red tinge of Stephen's blush is instant and feels like he's sweaty, gross but Tony is smiling as much as he's glaring at him now and Stephen stares at the contrast of it. He's daring him to say anything, intent in his movements, his hands sliding all over Stephen's chest and stomach.

“I love you,” he whispers and this time it does sound like a plea, a call for Stephen to please understand, until Tony changes strategies, “Take the shirt off.” 

Stephen’s eyes widen, again taken aback by the tone Tony uses, the words themselves only registering when Tony squeezes one of his love handles. 

He doesn't want to and yet he can't help being curious of Tony's next move. He chuckles a dark thing of self-loathing and Tony huffs in answer. He takes off the shirt.

Stephen's eyes tingle rather unpleasantly and it feels like tears but he doesn't want to believe it. Tony's face is soft as he contemplates his husband, loving as he traces the planes of him, smooth skin so pale it looks milky. Tony bends down to kiss him and he knows how hard it is for the other man, he does, but he's given him as much space and time as he could and it’s not doing him any good. 

“You're beautiful, you hear me?” He pecks his lips, “Sexy as fuck,” he nuzzles his jaw and delights in the hitch in Stephen’s breath, “There's nothing I would change about you, nothing at all.” 

Tony's hands are at his hips, settled and kneading his flesh and before Stephen can hurt them both by debunking everything he's just been said he feels the definite hardness of him and his back arches slightly. 

“That's right, feel that?” Tony bumps their groins together and they gasp in unison. It's a fleeting thing the sadness that threatened to fill Stephen up to his cheeks but is now flying away, chased by Tony's hips bucking again and again. 

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” 

Their foreheads are joined and Stephen still has his arms around Tony's back when they fall asleep, the rain a distant pitter-patter outside the walls of their safe space of love and nothing else. Tony's disgust of the country and camping forgotten till morning comes and wakes them. 

Because come mud and weight issues, they are together and that's not about to change, ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> More more and more soon, very soon :)


End file.
